The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.
When the road ends, and the goal is gained, the pilgrim finds that he has travelled only from himself to himself.
The feet of the humblest may walk in the field where the feet of the holiest trod. This, then, is the marvel to mortals revealed. When the silvery trumpets of Christmas have pealed, that mankind are children of God.
A human being has so many skins inside, covering the depths of the heart. We know so many things, but we don’t know ourselves!
Hark! Hark to the wind! Tis the night, they say, when all souls come back from the far away - The dead, forgotten this many a day!
